


Way Down We Go

by rains_dawn



Category: Red Dead Redemption (Video Games)
Genre: Accidental Voyeurism, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Bath Sex, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Fluff and Humor, Fluff and Smut, Friends to Lovers, Gang Violence, High Honor Arthur Morgan, Hotel Sex, Injury Recovery, Period Typical Attitudes, Possessive Arthur, Protective Arthur, dutch is a dick to her, mostly canon
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-05-04
Updated: 2020-06-14
Packaged: 2021-03-01 23:46:58
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 7,188
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23975479
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rains_dawn/pseuds/rains_dawn
Summary: Arthur Morgan never considered himself to be much of a hunter. Thankfully, Charles knows justwho, in fact, can help—The Wapiti Tribe.Their help comes in the form of a woman named Maeva. A woman, who—despite her feminine charms—offers Arthur her abundant knowledge of the Heartlands and the notion that there's more to life than what he already knows.
Relationships: Arthur Morgan/Original Female Character(s), Arthur Morgan/Reader
Comments: 15
Kudos: 45





	1. a change of plans

**Author's Note:**

> Hello! This is my first RDR2 fic. And I'm so so so excited! I loved the game and love Arthur Morgan even more. This story has been stuck in my head for so long and I can't wait to get it out! 
> 
> Also, I'm leaving the female character's appearance a little ambiguous—in case some of you wanted to self-insert. Some things about her appearance I had to take liberty of due to the story. You'll see what I mean. 
> 
> Hope you enjoy this first chapter!

“We’re _lost,_ Charles.” Arthur drawled as his horse continued to follow Charles’ canter. 

  
  


“We’re not lost.” 

  
  


His answer came as a simple reply, though he wasn’t surprised in the least bit. He and Charles had been together for the better part of the day, and even Arthur could admit that _that_ much time with anyone—

  
  


Well. Let’s just say he was close to puttin’ a pistol in his mouth if he had to endure any more one word replies.

  
  


Charles was currently leading them up a path, and Arthur couldn’t help but take notice to the dream catchers scattered along it; hanging from the trees that surrounded them. He wrinkled his nose, now _thoroughly_ confused as to where Charles was, in fact, leading them and he couldn’t help but bring Apollo to a stop. 

  
  
  


Charles let out a grunt and stopped as well, turning his horse to face him. “What?” 

  
  


“That Indian tribe?” 

  
  


“I’ve had a few run ins with them. They’re good folk, Arthur.” 

  
  


“I ain’t worried about them being good folk. I’m worried how _they_ see _us.”_

  
  


Charles waved him off and turned back around, but Arthur was far from finished. 

  
  


“So what? We stay here for the night?”

  
  


“That’s what I’m thinking.” 

  
  


“ _Charles,_ we were only ‘sposed to be gone for the day. What makes you think we’re welcome here?” 

  
  


“They’re not savages, Arthur.” 

  
  


“I said nothin’ of the sort.” 

  
  


Arthur let out an agitated sigh as the camp soon came into view. He couldn’t deny that strange sort of deja-vu. That odd feeling that told Arthur he would be seeing that tribe again. Whether in a friendly or unfriendly encounter—he was uncertain. But something in the way that the tribe had spotted them on their way down from the Grizzlies—something in their _stares_ as their gazes settled on he and Charles when the wagon broke on them—

  
  


It was in the way they looked down at them from their horses—on that ledge. Like they would be seeing one another...some day. And he had since gathered that day would come sooner rather than later—he and Charles somehow finding themselves inexplicably _lost_ while traversing what he _thought_ was just a one-day excursion hunting whatever it was they could find.

  
  


But they then found themselves on that same trail leading down from the Grizzlies—to the Indian reservation a few yards in front of them. 

  
  


And Arthur was displeased—to say the _very_ least. 

  
  


“We shoulda _never_ come up this far.” he reiterated and Charles let out a grunt. “Dammit, Charles—“

  
  


But the brooding man ignored him. Because _of course_ he did. It was rare that Charles gave a damn about what anyone had to say—except for Arthur, it seemed. Which he supposed he could be thankful for. 

  
  


Though it seemed that moment was an exception. 

  
  


With a low _giddyup_ and a click of his tongue he felt Apollo trot forward—following Charles once more. His eyes had to adjust given the low hanging sun, soon to disappear below the horizon—the fact that the camp was hidden by trees not helping his line of sight in the least bit.

  
  


Arthur’s brow wrinkled at what seemed to be nothing short of a welcome party—a group of women surrounding Charles to help him from his horse. The same was done to him as he tried to hitch Apollo on his own, but was overtaken by another group who welcomed him graciously. 

  
  


“Uh, thank you much.” he said with a curt nod and tip of his hat as he hopped off of Apollo, giving him a few strokes and pats before meeting up with Charles. 

  
  


He shot him a suspect look and crossed his arms. “You know ‘em.” he stated and Charles shrugged his shoulders. 

  
  


“I’ve run into them a few times while hunting in the Heartlands. They uh...owe me some trouble I got them out of."

"Charles—"Arthur grumbled but was interrupted when a man emerged from the small crowd—looking between the two of them with a peaceful look on his face.

“It’s good to see you, Charles.” he said with a soft smile and Charles nodded his head in kind. 

  
  


“Likewise.” he offered and looked over to Arthur. “This is Arthur Morgan. Arthur—this is Rains Falls.” 

  
  


Arthur accepted the older man’s outstretched hand and tipped his head. “Pleasure.” he drawled and Rains Fall let go, ushering them into their camp. 

  
  


He led them to a fire, a set of four logs that lined the perimeter and he took a seat. Arthur and Charles followed not long after and Rains Fall glanced between the two of them. “So,” he started, “what brings you two up here past the forest?” 

  
  


Charles sighed and leaned forward. “We had been out in the Heartlands all day and eventually found ourselves up here.”

  
  


“Hunting?”

  
  


“Yes.” 

  
  


“Were you successful?” 

  
  


Charles sighed and shook his head. “Just a few meager rabbits. My friend here—“ 

  
  


“Was the one who actually _caught_ those rabbits. Need I remind you.” he felt the need to point out and Rains Fall chuckled. 

  
  


“Well, our hunters are due back any moment now. You can certainly have your share of whatever they caught."

  
  


"Hunters?" Arthur asked and Rains Fall nodded his head.

  
  


“We have a group that goes out once a week. They’re usually gone for a day or so.”

"In any case—" Charles started as he turned his attention back to Rains Fall, "We're not here for that."

  
  


The older man was interrupted by a commotion towards the outskirts of their camp—a knowing look in his eyes as a group of riders came into view. Arthur’s brow wrinkled at the realization that they were most likely the hunters Rains Fall had just finished mentioning.

  
  


“Maeva.” Rains Fall called as Arthur’s gaze settled on a woman. She rode into camp on a white Arabian—tall and exceptionally beautiful. The majority of it was a soft grey—as grey as the moon that began to take its hold in the sky. The horse’s long legs gradually turned black as it reached its hooves. 

  
  


It was quite dark, so he couldn’t make out the horse’s rider. He saw that she nodded her head towards Rains Fall and hitched her horse, climbing down to give it a few pats on the head and stroke its mane before making her way over. 

  
  


Arthur tilted his head as the woman approached the fire. She was dressed in tight fitted riding pants and a white blouse. Her hair was braided and hung off her shoulder, a bit blown and wild from the ride. He watched her carefully as she took a seat on one of the logs—right beside Rains Fall. She smiled and glanced around the campfire, her eyes settling on both he and Charles. Her brow wrinkled and Arthur shot her an impish grin. 

  
  


Rains Fall cleared his throat. “Maeva—this is Arthur Morgan and Charles Smith. They were hunting in the Heartlands earlier today.”

  
  


She shot them both a polite smile and placed her hands in her lap. “Pleasure.” 

  
  


Charles nodded his head as she continued to look at them, a hint of suspicion in her eyes. “We don’t get visitors...often.” she pointed and Arthur grunted. 

  
  


“Believe me—we weren’t exactly plannin’ on comin’ in this direction.” 

  
  


He felt Charles elbow his side and he let out a low growl through his lips. “We saw some members of your tribe on our way down from the Grizzlies a few weeks ago.” Charles stated. “Honestly—we’re gonna be here awhile. And my partner here—” Charles said with a small laugh and Arthur shot him a look. 

  
  


“Well, he’s not all that good at hunting.” 

  
  


“That ain’t true.” Arthur grumbled and shot his gaze up at the sound of Maeva’s melodic laugh. 

  
  


“Well, you’ve come to the right place.” 

  
  


Arthur wrinkled his brow. “Yeah?” 

  
  


Maeva sighed and nodded her head. “We’re what you would call... _expert_ hunters.” 

  
  


Rains Fall hummed in agreement and Arthur looked between the two of them, suspiciously. “Why are you so willing to help us?” 

  
  


Maeva and Rains Fall glanced at one another, a slightly forlorn expression on the older man’s face as Iris offered him a sympathetic look. “It’s been hard.” she murmured and broke her gaze from Rains Fall to look over at Arthur. “Since we were driven from our previous settlement by Blackwater.” 

  
  


“Oh?” 

  
  


“Yeah. It’s been…” she repeated with a sigh and a shake of her head. “We haven’t been received well.” 

  
  


“I’m sorry to hear that.” Arthur offered; genuinely. Charles nodded his head in agreement and watched as Rains Fall began to lift himself up from the log. 

  
  


“We’re just happy to have peaceful visitors.” he noted and Arthur offered him a small smile. “If you’ll excuse me—I’d like to retire for the evening. But we’ll reconvene at dawn.” 

  
  


Arthur nodded his head as the older man stepped away from the fire—making his way towards a tent and disappearing behind the flaps. He turned his attention back to Maeva, unable to help but notice that—

  
  


Well, to be frank, how _different_ she looked. Different as in—

  
  


_Completely_ unlike the others in the tribe. Upon further inspection he could detect how bright her eyes were. Her skin was fairly pale and he noticed a smattering of freckles along her nose and cheeks as she stared down at the fire. 

  
  


Charles seemed to notice as well, Arthur noticing the slightly perturbed look on his face. He wouldn’t dare ask so he settled for basking in the awkward silence that had fallen since Rains Fall’s departure. 

  
  


Maeva let out an unimpressed sigh and adjusted on the log. She shot the two a suspect look. “So...who are you two—really?” 

  
  


“What do ya mean?” 

  
  


“You’re not just two men lookin’ to hunt.” 

  
  


Arthur furrowed his brow and leaned forward on his seat. “What makes ya say that?” 

  
  


“Well,” she said as she crossed her legs and tossed her gaze back to their horses. “No _simple_ men ride with that much added security.” 

  
  


Arthur and Charles looked at one another—and it was the look in their eyes that gave it away. Maeva laughed yet again. “You’re both wanted.” she said rather curtly. 

  
  


He closed his eyes and let out a strained breath. Maeva continued to look between the two of them as he shot a worried glance over to Charles. “Look—” he shot but she lifted her hand up, as a means to silence him. 

  
  


“I’m not going to say anything. I know what it’s like—running from the law.” she offered, seemingly genuine and Arthur felt himself relax a bit. He nodded his head and Maeva smiled softly. 

  
  


“So—you’re lookin’ to hunt?” 

  
  


“That’s right.” 

  
  


“Well,” she began as she sat back on the log, “I don’t mind showing you a thing or two. We weren’t able to catch one but the bison have moved just north of Emerald Station as we were leaving.”

  
  


“Oh?” Charles asked and Maeva wrinkled her brow. 

  
  


“Or should we start with something smaller? Like, rabbits?”

  
  


Arthur rolled his eyes. “Do I look like someone who doesn’t know how to hunt rabbits?” 

  
  


“With all due respect—it doesn’t matter how you look, sir.” she said matter-of-factly and Arthur couldn’t help the shiver that ran down his spine at being called _sir._

  
  


Arthur and Charles remained silent as Maeva let out a humoured chuckle. “Bison it is, then.” 

  
  


She lifted herself from the log and looked down at the two of them. “They like to graze mid-morning. Meet me outside the camp at dawn and we’ll ride together.” 

  
  


Arthur tipped his hat as he watched her turn, leaving the fire they had been sitting around. He turned his attention to Charles with a less than impressed look on his face and he shrugged. 

  
  


“You know her?” 

  
  


“Never seen her in my life.” 

  
  


“Hm.” 

  
  


The two paused, staring down at the fire as they contemplated just _what_ kind of situation they had gotten themselves into. At the start of that day, Arthur had not expected in a _million years_ he’d end it with hunting lessons from a member of the Wapiti tribe. 

  
  


From a young woman no less. 

  
  


The fact that she was a woman had nothing to do with it. It was that he could possibly be _schooled_ by a woman who was surely seven or eight years younger than he. He supposed it shouldn’t matter. That he shouldn’t _care._ It really was the least of his problems and the need to hunt for their own camp certainly should outweigh his pride. 

  
  


Then again, he _was_ a man. A simpleton at times. 

  
  


Arthur shook his head and stood from his seat, shooting Charles a curt nod. “I’m callin’ it a night.” 

  
  


Charles nodded his head and threw his attention back to the fire. “See you in the morning.” he called as Arthur stepped away and made his way towards Apollo. He threw his gaze left and right, ashamed of the fact that he may have been looking for a certain woman on his short journey back. 

  
  


Though he was unsuccessful. 

  
  


He let out a strained sigh as he approached Apollo, giving him a few pats on his head. “That’s mah boy…” he crooned and laughed slightly as the chestnut brown thoroughbred nodded his head in contentment. Arthur grabbed the pack from atop Apollo and made his way back into camp, finding a rather empty area towards the back of camp to pitch his modest tent. 

  
  
  


Settling onto his rolled out bed roll, he placed his hands over his chest and closed his eyes. Nothing but the sound of chirping insects to fill his ears as sleep overcame him. 

  
  


* * *

  
  
  


Morning came faster than he had anticipated, and it was then that he realized he hadn’t had such a peaceful rest in quite some time. 

  
  


He tore down his small camp and glanced around, finding the reservation was still rather quiet. Only a few members had emerged from their tents and he looked to his side to find Charles still asleep in his own.

  
  


Making his way back to Apollo, he noticed a figure out of the corner of his eye. Standing on what seemed to be a cliff that looked out to Cumberland Forest and the Heartlands. He shot a curious glance in their direction and pushed his thumbs into his gun belt. 

  
  


His legs carried themselves as he walked towards the figure. They turned at the sound of his footsteps and he was pleasantly surprised to find Maeva’s smiling face. Her hair was much more tamed as it was thrown in that similar side braid. She wore a dark blue blouse and tan riding pants that hugged her legs in ways he didn’t think pants could hug a woman’s legs. At the realization that he was staring, he immediately shot his gaze back to her face and shot her an impish grin. 

  
  


“Mornin’.” he said with a tip of his hat and she regarded him with a nod of her head. 

  
  


“Morning, Mr. Morgan.” 

  
  


He chuckled and stood next to her. “You can call me Arthur.” 

  
  


She didn’t respond. Instead, she reached down to her feet where a canteen of coffee and another cup had been lying. He wrinkled his brow and watched as she poured him a cup. “Were you expectin’ me?” he teased and she let out a melodic laugh. 

  
  


“Somethin’ like that.” 

  
  


He nodded his head, accepting the coffee she had offered and took a sip. A contented hum escaped his lips as he let the warm brew heat his throat and chest. A companionable silence fell between the two as they turned their gazes outward as the sun began to cast its light over the forest and plains. 

  
  


“This is…” he started as he stared out in awe. “This is really somethin’ else.” 

  
  


Maeva hummed in agreement. “It really is. The only upside of being forced out of Blackwater.” 

  
  


Arthur offered her a sympathetic look and nodded his head. “I know the feeling. And I’m….” he trailed off as she looked at him, a glimmer in her eye that he had gotten caught up in for a moment. “I’m real sorry to hear about that.” 

  
  


Maeva nodded her head and turned her attention back towards the view. He continued to stare down at her, taking sips of his coffee as he did so. She didn't seem to notice—not at first, at least. He could feel with each sip as the coffee began to slowly wake him—noticing how she quirked her brow but kept her gaze forward.

  
  


“Something on your mind?” 

  
  


A strained sigh left his lips as she threw him a cheeky look. “Uh…” he started, unsure of how to frame his question. “Have you, um, always been a part of the tribe?” 

  
  


She paused for a moment, that same cheeky grin on her face and she eventually shook her head. “You’re wondering if I was born into the Wapiti tribe?” 

  
  


Arthur nodded his head and she looked back out towards the forest below. “No. I wasn’t.” she said simply and let out a sigh. “But Rains Fall is as much of a father to me as, well…” she paused and shook her head, “whoever my _real_ father is. Or parents, for that matter. He found me. Took me in. The rest is history.”

  
  


“I get that.” Arthur said as he looked out. “Dutch—the man I’ve been runnin’ with since I was a teenager—he’s always been a father to me. Ever since my ma and pa kicked the bucket.” 

  
  


Maeva looked at him with a sorrowful look and he shook his head. “Don’t. It’s been a long time now.” 

  
  


Another pause blanketed them as Arthur let out a sigh. The sun had risen some more and he cleared his throat, looking down towards Maeva as her eyes seemed to scan the plains beyond the forest. “So...I suppose we should get movin’ soon.” 

  
  


“I suppose you’re right.” she muttered as she turned back towards camp. “Are we waitin’ on your friend?” 

  
  


“Naw.” he quipped as he waved it off. “He’s the hunter of our group. He won't be needin' the lessons.” 

  
  


Maeva laughed and crossed her arms. “And he couldn’t teach you?” 

  
  


“Charles ain't the best teacher.” Arthur said with a strained laugh. “Mainly 'cause he’s ain't capable of saying more than two words at a time.” 

  
  


Maeva laughed. “Ah.” 

  
  


Maeva abandoned the spot she had been standing and turned away for him, gathering the canteen in her arms as she did so. Arthur followed after her and watched as she approached her horse which was hitched with the others. 

  
  


“That’s a mighty fine lookin’ horse you have there.” 

  
  


“Thank you.” she said with a smile as she stroked its mane. “Her name is Fey.” 

  
  


“Fey.” he repeated as he allowed the horse to inspect him. After a few moments he was allowed to give her a few pats. 

  
  


“I’ll go mount up and we can head out?” 

  
  


Maeva nodded her head and Arthur turned to head on over to Apollo, still hitched in his same spot. He shot a cursory glance over to where Charles had pitched his tent—finding that it was still up and he had yet to emerge. He shook his head and unhitched Apollo. 

  
  


He mounted the thoroughbred and guided him away from camp, meeting Maeva and Fey towards the edge of the reservation. She had a bow around her arm and shot him a coy smile.

  
  


“You ready to do some huntin’, Mr. Morgan?” she asked with a wiggle in her brow. It had his stomach flip for reasons unknown. Similar to when she had called him _sir_ earlier. 

  
  


He smiled and nodded his head. “After you, Ms.” he offered, hand outstretched as she clicked her tongue and urged her horse forward.

  
  
  



	2. a fine day for it

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Maeva teaches Arthur a thing or two about hunting.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So sorry that this update took so dang long! I read through it a few times and felt like there was some dialogue missing between Arthur and Maeva.

New Hanover was unlike anything Arthur had ever seen in his life. 

  
  


He had been following Maeva for a good hour—watching the sun shine its bright morning light across the plains. They had remained silent within that hour. Did nothing but listen to the rustling leaves from the trees above them; the babbling brook that snaked along their path. 

  
  


It might have been awkward if it were anyone else. Though it was anything but. 

  
  


They hadn’t spoken a word and still—he felt an immense sense of peace. Peace he hadn’t felt in some time and he had only known Maeva for a mere few hours. She continued to lead on ahead, keeping her horse at a canter as he followed several feet behind. 

  
  


She had let her hair out some time ago—freeing her long and full locks as they were lifted by the modest breeze. Arthur couldn’t help but notice the smell of lilac that wafted in his direction as she continued to guide him out of the forest and into the plains. 

  
  


They were high enough where he could begin to make out Emerald Station. The train had just pulled up—now able to see the plumes of smoke that billowed from the train’s smoke stack. Maeva began to pick up the pace as they broke through the trees, now in a full on gallop as Fey climbed the hill leading to where the bison were grazing. 

  
  


She steered Fey to a stop after leading them to a small pasture. She turned towards him, a knowing smile on her face. “You alright back there?” 

  
  


He nodded his head and brought Apollo to a stop as he leaned forward on his saddle. Apollo shook his head and let out a huff as he bent his head towards the grass. Maeva hopped off from Fey and grabbed a pair of binoculars from her pouch. She slung them around her neck and lifted them to fit over her eyes. 

  
  


Arthur slid down from Apollo and slowly walked towards where she was standing. He stood beside her as she continued to hold the binoculars over her eyes—assessing where the bison were currently grazing on the hill. She clicked her tongue and lowered them, squinting her eyes against the high-hanging sun. 

  
  


“What’s it lookin’ like?”

  
  


She let out a huff through her nose as she continued to study the herd. “Well, I figure our best bet would be go in with the big guns.” 

  
  


Arthur scrunched his nose and shot her a look. “Thought you were teachin’ me to hunt.” 

  
  


“I am.” 

  
  


“You wanna use a gun on a bison?” 

  
  


“Well, I doubt you have any of the right arrows on you, though—” she said as she turned to face him. “I can teach you how to make them.” 

  
  


A surprised look spread across his face. “And I’ll be able to use a bow?” 

  
  


Maeva nodded her head and smiled. “Sure can.” 

  
  


He stood and thought for a moment, allowing his eyes to shift over and watch Maeva as she took a few things out of her pack. Kneeling down on the ground, she began to work on the arrows she had already brought. 

  
  


“You got any of your own?” 

  
  


Arthur nodded his head and whistled for Apollo—who came strutting in his direction in an instant. He dug for the few arrows that he had, having wasted them with Charles on some meager squirrels and rabbits. He extracted the three that he had and made his way to where Maeva had begun to make a fire. He shot her a confused look, to which she seemed amused by. 

  
  


“We need to heat the tips.” 

  
  


Arthur nodded his head and knelt down on the other side. “Ah.” 

  
  


“So—” Maeva began as she set the steel spike of the arrow on the flame, “The key to hunting big game like bison is that you want a clean shot.” 

  
  


“Clean shot?” 

  
  


“Yup.” she said with a simple nod of her head. “What’s best for us and the bison is a one-shot kill.” 

  
  


“So...you proposin’ we use just one arrow?” 

  
  


She lifted her eyes to his and smirked. “That’s _ exactly _ what I’m sayin’, Mr. Morgan.” 

  
  


He blew out a labored breath, to which she just laughed in response and he shook his head in helplessness. “I dunno how you’re gonna teach me any o’ that.” 

  
  


“Have you no faith in me, Mr. Morgan?” she teased and he winced in slight embarrassment. 

  
  


“On the contrary—” he began as he lifted himself to a stand and let his steeled gaze travel towards the herd of bison. “I have every bit of faith in you, miss.” 

  
  


Maeve nodded her head and lifted from the fire, grabbing their arrows as she did so. She handed him his three before grabbing her arrow from Fey. Arthur did the same with Apollo and slung it across his chest, taking Maeva’s lead. 

  
  


She tossed a smile behind her. “Let’s get to some huntin’, then.”

  
  


* * *

  
  


Hunting proved to be...more difficult than Arthur initially presumed. And if learning all the different strategies and tactics wasn’t hard enough—it was Maeva’s silent teasing and judgement that made it damn near impossible to concentrate fully. 

  
  


His aim was off. His stance was off. He just wanted to take down a damn bison and call it a day for God’s sake.

  
  


And it was  _ hot _ . The sun was high in the sky and his overheated body begged for some shade. Maeva had since taken care of that problem—the  _ heat.  _ By tying up her hair to reveal her smooth neck and remove the light jacket she had been wearing during their descent from the mountain. 

  
  


And there he was—in the middle of a field with what he was  _ sure _ to become a burnt nose that just didn’t seem to want to escape from the sun’s rays. Shed down to at least a simple button up shirt and his ranch pants. Still—his body begged to at least take a dip in the nearby river. If it hadn’t been for the company he had that day. 

  
  


Maeva, with a hand on her hip, took a moment to rest as she kept her gaze outward. They started small, aiming at the skies to take down a few birds. It wasn’t a total waste and Maeva claimed they would need their feathers eventually. 

  
  


If he could use his gun, then  _ maybe  _ they’d be seeing some results. But hunting with rifles wasn’t why he traveled all the way here. If he came all this way to learn to hunt—

  
  


He damn well would learn it the right way. 

  
  


Arthur stalked up the small hill she had since ascended and stood next to her, watching as she remained focused on the slow moving herd of bison. She shifted her gaze towards him and shot him a teasing grin. “Think you’re ready to take one down?” 

  
  


“You really think I can just go from takin’ down birds to a big ‘ol bison?” he asked incredulously and she only laughed. 

  
  


“If we want to make it back tonight.” she alluded and he nodded his agreement. Finding that he would really rather not spend more than a single day embarrassing himself further. 

  
  


“Hey—” she said and he lifted his gaze to hers. She offered him a reassuring smile and grabbed onto his arm, to which he looked down and wrinkled his brow at what he found to be a foreign gesture. She immediately pulled away and replaced her smile with a sheepish grin. “Hunting takes work. Birds, honestly, are the hardest.” she said and he nodded in understanding. “If you can nail a bird, you can nail a bison.” 

  
  


A sigh escaped his lips, no doubt agreeing with her. She slung the bow around her chest and began to walk towards the herd. “Ready?” 

  
  


He nodded his head and allowed her to lead, following as she dropped to a crouch to creep along the tall grass. It provided a small bit of relief as he felt the grass breeze past him and shade some parts of his body. 

  
  


After a few moments they stood just a few yards away from the herd—remaining as quiet and still as they could so as to not startle any of the grazing bison. Maeva took a few steps back towards him—continuing to look back at him and the herd. 

  
  


“One shot, yeah?” 

  
  


He nodded his head and removed his bow from around his chest. She took his hand in hers and he shot her a confused look. “You have two choices.” she began as she guided his hand around the bow while the other grasped his arrow. “Between the eyes or the heart.” 

  
  


Arthur nodded his head, trying to remain focused despite the feel of her hand tightly wound around his. “The heart is hard with an arrow, so your best bet is between the eyes.” 

  
  


“Between the eyes.” he murmured to himself as she assisted in guiding his aim towards a bison who was facing them. 

  
  


He could feel his heart pounding in his chest and it only worsened when he felt her hand trail up his arm and to his shoulder. He felt her head turn to his and he did his best to keep his gaze steady. Feeling what was sure to be her breath on his cheek.

  
  


“Just relax.” she murmured and he let out a shaky breath. “Drop your shoulders.” 

  
  


He heeded her command—relaxed his shoulders and evened his breath—just as she told him to. 

  
  


“Focus on the quietness...close your eyes.” she whispered and he did so. “Listen to the quiet rustling of the grass.” she breathed. “And let it take you.” 

  
  


The melodic tune of her voice relaxed him further as his eyes remained shut. Her warm hand had since left his shoulder, much to his dismay though he hardly even noticed. And for a good few moments he could hear nothing but the steady rustling of the grass. His arrow was still aimed towards the herd, though he had no idea if he'd open his eyes to a completely different image. 

  
  


“Open your eyes.” she commanded. 

  
  


And he did.

  
  


“Aim.”

  
  


His gaze shifted in a split-second—arrow set for the same bison they had their sights on just moments ago. 

  
  


“Shoot.” 

  
  


He wasn’t even aware he had done it. Didn’t even notice as the arrow fled from his grasp. Nor as it headed straight for the middle of the bison’s eyes. 

  
  


It took him a moment to process what had happened—even as it fell to the ground and the rest of the herd scattered. His eyes remained fixed on the collapsed bison—heart hammering in his chest. He turned slowly towards Maeva, pleased to find a rather stunned expression on her face. 

  
  


“Did—Did I…?”

  
  


“Sure did.” she smiled and leapt up from where they had been hidden in the grass. He followed soon after—having grounded himself to the present and shaken out of his reverie. 

  
  


She threw him a teasing glance and stood a few feet from the bison. “Now—” she started and he tilted his head. “How are you at skinning?”

  
  


Arthur chuckled and padded at the blade he had sheathed in his belt. “That,” he said as he began to walk towards her. “ _ That  _ I can do.” 

* * *

  
  
  


Darkness cloaked the night sky—the only light being that from the moon and stars. It turned out to be a full moon that evening; and their camp in the middle of the valley made it so that they had plenty of light. 

  
  


After they had skinned the bison, Maeva sent Arthur out to hunt for a few rabbits while she foraged for herbs. The two returned about an hour later with great success—Arthur still riding on the high of his first big kill earlier that day. 

  
  


He found her seated by the fire, with her hair let down to cascade into soft waves past her shoulders. He sat down next to her after having skinned the rabbits and placed them above the flame. A soft smile spread across her lips as he settled and let out a breath through his nostrils. 

  
  


“So—” she suddenly said as he kept his gaze on the fire. “what is it that keeps you busy while you’re not,” she says with a wiggle in her brow, “hunting.” 

  
  


Arthur shoots her a look before averting his gaze back towards the fire. “Nothin’ too titillation’.” 

  
  


“Oh, come on now.” she says with a  _ tsk  _ and he sighs in response. 

  
  


“I’m afraid if I told you I’d have ‘ta kill ya.” 

  
  


She laughed and shook her head. “I doubt that.” 

  
  


“It’s true.” 

  
  


“Well, fine then.  _ Don’t  _ tell me.” she said with a bit of a teasing tone at the end. 

  
  


Arthur chuckled to himself and watched as the two rabbits continued to cook. It allowed him a moment to think. His life as an outlaw...well—it wasn’t a life so readily accepted. Not in this day and age. All the shit that went down in Blackwater proved that. And with the Pinkertons on their tail…

  
  


It should  _ not  _ have been that hard of a score. But with the changing times...it’s what makes life on the run so hard. You just keep runnin’. Keep runnin’ and don’t look back. Only  _ now _ , when you look back, someone is almost always there. And they’re there to take you down. 

  
  


It wasn’t always like that. Hell, you could rob a nickel store and no one would bat an eye. But with this... civilization. 

  
  


Arthur felt their time was nigh on done. And maybe it was them who needed changin’. 

  
  


“You alright there, cowboy?” 

  
  


Arthur shook out of his reverie and glanced over at Maeva—who had since plucked their rabbits from the small iron grate and had handed him one. 

  
  


He smiled and reached for it. “Yeah, just fine. Thanks.” 

  
  


She nodded her head and dug in as his thoughts drifted to the tribe. He took a bite into the meat, doing his best not to examine Maeva too closely. Her skin shone bright against the amber haze of fire—as well as the moon above them. He tried his best not to think about it. Instead, wondering just  _ how well  _ her tribe actually knew his wayward traveler friend. 

  
  


“So, you’ve met Charles before?” 

  
  


Maeva shook her head. “No—well,  _ I  _ haven’t. Some of the others are familiar with him, though.”

  
  


Arthur worked his lips as he thought to how Charles would even have the  _ time  _ for such excursions. He had the thought to question him when they returned, though he decided against it. Charles was a good man. Far too good a man for the shit the gang was making him do. 

  
  


Maybe this tribe was his penance. 

  
  


“And how long have you all been out here?” 

  
  


She paused a moment and let out a sigh through her nostrils. “Not long. Our previous settlement was right outside of Blackwater, like I said earlier.” 

  
  


Arthur nodded his head. “Right.” 

  
  


“Being too close to that...civilization.” she said, causing Arthur to look over at her in surprise. “I guess we should have seen it coming.” 

  
  


He nodded his head—no doubt understanding that it was she felt. Feeling like no matter what, this new world filled with law and order would follow them no matter  _ where  _ they went. He could see it in her eyes. Could see the fear she felt for the inevitable. And he knew that fear all too well. 

  
  


Arthur turned to her and let out a faint cough, garnering her attention and she looked over to him with a wrinkled brow.

  
  


“Truth be told, miss,” he said with a deep breath, “we’re not just wanted men. Me and Charles...we’re outlaws.” 

  
  


Maeva let out a sort of chortle and he wrinkled his brow. “I know.” 

  
  


“You knew?” 

  
  


“Yeah, sort of.” 

  
  


“Uh, well—how? If you don’t mind me askin’.”

  
  


Maeva sighed and gave him a sort of knowing look. “I guess, in times like these—if you’re not working  _ for  _ the man, then you’re working against him.” 

  
  


Arthur nodded his head, a look of understanding on his face as he considered her words. “Can’t argue with that.” 

  
  


They ate in a companionable silence. Both trapped in their own thoughts as they enjoyed their meals. When they finished, Maeva collected their plates and washed them off down at the nearby stream while Arthur set up their tents. 

  
  


On her return she gave him a soft smile, which he returned in kind. “Arthur.” she called out and he paused outside his tent. “I know we may have different ways of getting what we want but…” she paused, “We know what it’s like. Wishing for simpler times.” 

  
  


Arthur smiled and nodded his head, no doubt understanding what she meant and appreciated the sentiment. He tipped his hat and rumbled a deep, “Goodnight, miss.” before retreating back into his tent. 

  
  


He lay on his back—hands on his chest and eyes closed to say goodbye to what turned out to be a nicer day than he had originally predicted. 

  
  


All in all—he was happy to have made an acquaintance in this curious girl. 

* * *

  
  
  


“How did you get on?” 

  
  


Arthur threw Charles a wink as he leapt down from Apollo—skinned bison in tow and Maeva not far behind him. They made it back with just an hour of daylight to spare and a surprisingly successful day of hunting behind them. 

  
  


“Just fine.” he drawled and gave the man a pat on the shoulder. He heard Maeva hop off from Fey and hitch her with the rest of the horses. 

  
  


She nodded her head in agreement. “I’m going to get the others. See what we can do about this big guy.” she said as she gestured for the skinned bison that lay on their two horses. 

  
  


Arthur watched on—intently. Not noticing how Charles was looking at him in a funny way. He glanced over to his friend and scowled, crossing his arms as he did so. “What?” 

  
  


“Just fine?” 

  
  


Arthur shrugged his shoulders, not catching his meaning and made an innocent enough face. Charles chuckled and shook his head before turning from him and towards the settlement. Arthur let out an agitated sigh as he followed after him, thumbs in his belt as he meandered into camp. He glanced to his side, finding Maeva had fetched some men she had rode into camp with the previous evening. 

  
  


He turned his gaze downward when he noticed she had looked in his direction—rubbing his hand on the skin of his neck as he took a seat by the fire. He threw a cursory nod in the direction of where Rains Fall was sitting, and he returned it in kind. 

  
  


“I hear your endeavour was a success.” 

  
  


Arthur smiled and nodded his head. “It was. You’ve got a hell of a hunter here.” 

  
  


Rains Fall hummed his agreement. “Indeed.” 

  
  


A silence blanketed them and Arthur looked up to find Maeva had taken a seat down next to him. She smiled sweetly and handed him a flask, which he took graciously. “Thank you much.” 

  
  


“Mhm.” she responded as they clinked their flasks together. “To you first big kill.” 

  
  


They each took a swig and he closed his eyes, relishing in the warmth of the whiskey that slithered down his throat and coated his stomach. The sun had set and the moon cast its gaze through the trees—leaving the surrounding forest fairly cool. Cool enough that they could see their breaths escape their lips in soft plumes. 

  
  


“This is good.” he remarked as he snuck a glance her way. She nodded her head in silent agreement as she looked over to Rains Fall, who was watching them closely. He offered Arthur another kind smile as his eyes continued to shift between the two. She wasn’t sitting  _ close _ —not necessarily. Though she was close enough that he could feel the heat of her body next to his. 

  
  


He didn’t exactly welcome it...though he didn’t want to push it away either. Maeva was a kind girl, from what he had gathered in the meager twenty four hours he knew her. She could hold her own—that much was obvious. And he always harbored a deep appreciation for that. 

  
  


Charles coughed and Arthur looked his way, throwing him a slightly annoyed look as he wrinkled his brow.  _ What?  _ he mouthed and Charles gestured for their tents. 

  
  


Arthur glanced towards Maeva and handed her his flask. “Thanks but, uh—think me and Charles are gonna turn in.” 

  
  


She fixed him a sweet smile and grabbed it from him. “Okay. Goodnight, then.” 

  
  


He nodded and tipped his hat to both she and Rains Fall. “G’night.” he murmured as he turned to leave the small group.

  
  


He only had to walk a few short yards to reach where Charles was standing with his arms crossed. Arthur gave him a look and shrugged his shoulders. “What?” 

  
  


“I thought I was going with you two.” 

  
  


“Oh.” Arthur said simply and genuinely. “I hadn’t a clue. I’m sorry, Charles.” 

  
  


“It’s fine.” he said in his gruff voice and nodded outward towards the camp. “I was able to get my bearings here. I think...they could really use our help, Arthur.” 

  
  


“What kind of help?” 

  
  


“Protection. Aid. Assi—“

  
  


“Charles, no.”

  
  


“ _ Arthur,  _ these people—“

  
  


“Are  _ fine  _ people.” Arthur interrupted while pointing a finger at Charles. “But that’s not why we’re here. We shouldn’t even  _ be  _ here. These folk…” Arthur paused and let out an irritated breath, “are good folk. But we don’t run a charity.”

  
  


“It’s not charity. It’s being a good person.” 

  
  


“We’re not  _ good _ folk _ ,  _ Charles.” 

  
  


“We can be decent.” 

  
  


Arthur closed his eyes and let out an irritated breath through his nostrils. If he were honest, the gang...they were not in a good spot. Fleeing from camp to camp. They had just abandoned Horseshoe Overlook to stake claim someplace else. Dutch’s plans seem more senile than ever. 

  
  


He knew things were going south. He just knew it. At the same time, his loyalty and love for the gang were the most real things to him. The most tangible and controllable aspects of his life that were the only things keeping him going. 

  
  


But he couldn’t deny... couldn’t  _ lie  _ to himself and Charles and say he had no desire to help. Because at the end of the day—

  
  


Their situations were no different. 

  
  


Arthur let out a sigh and gazed up at the moonlit sky. “Alright.” he murmured and heard Charles shift a bit. “If we find our paths cross, or they come looking for help... then—yeah. Alright.” 

  
  


Charles nodded his head and breathed a relieved sigh. “Thank you, Arthur. Thank you.” 

  
  


Arthur nodded his head and turned to where a tent had been set up for him. Though not before Charles called out, “You’re a good man, Arthur Morgan.” 

  
  


He paused. A blank expression on his face and he couldn’t help but think—

  
  


_ I’m not a good man. Not at all.  _

  
  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know nothing about 'improving' arrows so I just made up that stuff on the spot. 
> 
> Leave a comment if you would be so kind! They really help motivate writers to get chapters out faster!


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